


Status: Unknown

by foxseal



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends With Benefits, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 07:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16512320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxseal/pseuds/foxseal
Summary: FWBs Minhyun and Seongwu sit down to film a 'Truth or Drink' interview. They do not make use of the 'drink' option much, and end up uncovering more truth than they initially anticipated.





	Status: Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> ☆ inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_xjXHqfcTRQ) super cute interview!!! highly recommend watching it...  
> ☆ what would i do without u kei, the only person willing to give up her active social life to beta my fic on a whim...

(Status: Unknown)

 

“ _So how did it start?”_

Minhyun stares at Seongwoo from across the table, a stack of questions printed out on square cards placed neatly between them. To his left are two shot glasses, a big bottle of vodka, whiskey and a carton of orange juice, included at his request. Seongwoo is sporting a ridiculously big grin on his face, and although Minhyun should be irritated by how self-satisfied Seongwoo looks, he can’t help but let the corners of his own lips tug upwards.

When Seongwoo called and practically begged him to do a ‘Friends with Benefits: Truth or Drink’ interview together, Minhyun had staunchly refused, no matter how adamantly Seongwoo insisted he wouldn't have to take a sip of alcohol.

“It’ll just be a chill talk, I promise! It’s nothing to be worried about, we don’t even have to prepare anything,” he’d said. “Plus, my friend Sungwoon's a great director. He’ll make the whole process super fun.”

The thing is, Minhyun’s reservations have nothing to do with him being camera-shy, as Seongwoo suspects, or his worries over their appeal on camera.

It’s the _ambiguity_ of their association that makes Minhyun so reluctant to talk about their ‘association' in length.

As far as he knows, they’re nothing more than bed-buddies, fuck-mates, friends-with-benefits—which means that nothing should warrant the warm buzzing in Minhyun’s limbs when they bump shoulders while brushing their teeth in the morning, or whenever he so much as receives a casual text from Seongwoo. Yet those feelings are there; fluttering about when their interactions border too close to affectionate intimacy. Minhyun knows thinking about it will only exacerbate the problem—and fortunately, given the nature of their ‘association’, there isn’t usually much room for Minhyun to really _think_ when they’re together.

(Thoughts about complicated _feelings_ just aren't on the forefront of his mind when his fingers are pressing all the right buttons to make Seongwoo cry out in pleasure, or when his mouth is pressed to Seongwoo’s body—and certainly not when Seongwoo is rolling their hips together in that tantalising way when he’s feeling extra confident.) 

Minhyun has everything under control.

Except under the scrutiny and nosiness of others, it's another story. The last thing he wants to do is open up a can of worms during an interview that will be posted on a worldwide platform.

“No, Seongwoo, nothing you say or do will make me change my mind,” Minhyun had stubbornly replied when Seongwoo asked him for the fourth time that day, practically hanging off him with a pout on small, pretty lips.

But then Seongwoo had put those small, pretty lips to better use around Minhyun’s cock, attacked him when his vocabulary was reduced to nothing except the words _Seongwoo, god_ and _yes—_ and that’s how he finds himself here in a makeshift filming studio, Sungwoon and two other friends behind the camera, Seongwoo grinning across from him like it’s the best thing he’s ever done in his life.

He’s rudely yanked out of his reverie when he feels a sharp kick to his shin. After yelping out in surprise and realising that Seongwoo’s expression is expectant, Minhyun remembers where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing.

“Um,” he blinks. “Sorry. What was the first question again?”

Seongwoo clicks his tongue and picks up the card again, waving it in his face. “I know I’m devastatingly attractive today, Minhyun, but focus!” Minhyun scrunches his nose in fake disapproval, which Seongwoo chooses to ignore. “How did it start?”

Alright. This is simple enough. “Well, uh,” he chuckles. “We were roommates, back in college.” Minhyun tries not to sound too wistful, but it’s hard when he thinks about their younger, but no less foolish, selves. “It was the first time I’ve had to share rooms with someone for more than a couple of days. I was really nervous, but Seongwoo turned out to be a pretty decent roommate.”  

“Man, you were lucky you had the best roommate as your first,” Seongwoo sighs. “Bet no one after me lived up to your expectations, huh?”

“Yeah, not even close,” Minhyun grins, and though he knows it’s banter it doesn’t end up coming out as a joke.

“I still remember the first time I dropped my stuff off. Minhyun was the cutest nerd.”

“ _Nerd_?”

“You carried these big books around and had these thick-framed glasses—“  

“And you were the most obnoxious sleeper,” he counters. “Except for his non-stop _snoring—_ no, don’t even try to deny it, Seongwoo—except for the snoring, we got along really well, but then we fell out of touch after both of us had to move out to private housing in our second year. Then we reconnected again during a networking event right after graduation.”

“It was for a publishing company!”

“Yeah, and… here we are I guess,” he ends with a chuckle, unsure of the appropriate amount of detail to divest. “Back to bugging each other’s lives.” 

Seongwoo, it seems, has no qualms about divesting a lot of his own details. “There was actually a time where I wanted to date Minhyunnie, but it didn’t end up working out that way,” he says with an easy smile, unaware of the way Minhyun’s heart trips over its own beat trying to process so many things at once—the nickname he seldom hears out of bed, the use of past tense, the way Seongwoo’s legs are _still swinging_ like he’s enjoying it too much. “We were just really busy people and figured that this kind of thing would be the best for us. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Me neither,” Minhyun finds himself saying without hesitation, and covers up his own surprise by swiping the top card from the stack. “ _What makes you different from normal couples?_ ”

Seongwoo sucks in air through his teeth in thought. “Hmm, we don’t really go on dates? Unless we count the trips to—”

“ _No_ , shopping for… supplies doesn’t count,” Minhyun grits his teeth.

“Whenever we meet face-to-face it’s not usually like _this._ ” Seongwoo gestures between the two of them, looking at the camera with a smile like he’s a weatherman announcing endless sunny days. “It’s usually more horizontal.”

“And on a bed.” 

“And on a bed,” he agrees. “Or your work table.”

“Or my poor dresser…”

“Or my car.” Seongwoo leans forwards. “The _hood_ of my car.”

“To be honest, though, I much prefer being indoors—”

“So kitchen counter usually works too. Oh, and we don’t usually sit in two chairs—“

“Usually we share one.” Now they’re both grinning so hard Minhyun is sure Seongwoo’s cheeks hurt—because his do—and the mental images rushing to his head are not in the least bit healthy, but Minhyun is buzzing with giddiness nonetheless. He thinks he hears a quiet curse behind the camera when Seongwoo leans over, face so close to Minhyun’s—

—only to completely lean back again as he takes a card. _“How often do we sleep together?”_

Trying not to make it too obvious that he’s catching his breath, Minhyun blinks, then frowns. “Oh,” he mumbles. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“Not that often?” Seongwoo suggests as he returns the card to a new stack they’ve started.

“You think so?” he blinks. “I thought we were meeting pretty frequently…”

“I mean, I guess it depends what we mean by ‘frequent’.” Seongwoo rests his cheek on his hand and Minhyun briefly lets himself think: _cute_. “I was thinking of frequent as in like, five days a week, or something. I don’t think we’ve ever reached that stage.”

“Except that time in September...“

“Oh my _god_ of course!” Seongwoo claps his hand, probably more excitedly than is appropriate when the topic of conversation is the frequency of his hook-ups. “You were really stressed out from work, I remember. It was past dinner time and you quite literally _barged_ into my flat. Nearly knocked the front door down from how hard you were knocking.”

“I wasn’t the only one looking to let out steam!” protests Minhyun, getting hot around his collar as images of him slamming Seongwoo back onto the front door with a bruising kiss flicker through his mind distractingly. “I _did_ say I was going to go back home that Wednesday, but you kept saying I left things at your place.”

If Minhyun didn’t know any better, he would think it’s embarrassment colouring Seongwoo’s face. But he _does_ know better, and knows that the rosiness high on Seongwoo’s cheeks are really tell-tales of his delight—delight at the memory, and at the fact that it’s clearly a cherished one for both of them.

“Better stop there before you embarrass me in front of the entire world, Minhyun.”

Turning to the camera, Minhyun gives it an awkward smile—it’s easy to forget they’re being filmed when Seongwoo ropes him into the conversation so seamlessly. “Um, I guess that means our answer is… it depends on our mood!”

“Next question!” Bouncing in his seat, Seongwoo slowly peels off another card from the stack dramatically and raises an eyebrow. “ _Anything you want to fix about my bedroom etiquettes?_ Oh god, don’t get him started—”

“Oh, _yes_ ,” Minhyun claps his hands together, reveling in Seongwoo’s pained groan. “Where do I start?”

“If you’re confused, you don’t have to start at all.”

“First, he knocks everything off my bedside table.”

Looking scandalised, Seongwoo sputters. “Wha—how is it my fault! Maybe you should buy a bigger bed!”

“Next, it should be cute when someone starts, um, stripping you kind of impatiently, right? Except Seongwoo actually, _literally_ rips my blouses. Several of them.”

“ _Minhyunnie_ —“

“You don’t fold the clothes after you take them off—“

Seongwoo throws his hands in the air. “ _Who_ folds their clothes before sex?”

“I do. And I think everyone else should, too. Then you wouldn’t have to wake up to terrible messes.”

“And that’s why foreplay takes so long with you…”  

With the earlier nervousness quickly ebbing away, Minhyun is able to throw his head back and laugh freely, feeling oddly empowered by Seongwoo’s seemingly non-existent shame despite the constant presence of a camera. “Like you’d want it to go faster.”

“You’re right,” Seongwoo grins. “I wouldn’t.” 

Minhyun reads the card out loud before he has time to process the actual question. _“Name the most intimate detail you know about the other person._ Wait, this isn’t even a question,” he complains, glaring at the camera.

Sungwoon just leans to the side and shrugs, effectively leaving Minhyun to fend for himself—but it’s not like he can just admit to knowing exactly how many moles there are on the small of Seongwoo’s back without raising suspicions, their positions memorised from the countless times he’d absentmindedly traced them out as Seongwoo sleeps beside him. He can’t admit to knowing exactly what makes Seongwoo laugh the hardest, or how Seongwoo wants to be comforted at any given time—it’s a sort of unsolicited intimacy, the kind that Minhyun’s just picked up along the way without seeing if Seongwoo’s been doing the same.

Being risk-averse is good in Minhyun’s books—so he pours himself a shot glass full of orange juice and downs it, letting out an exaggerated noise of satisfaction as he does so.

“Huh— hey!” Seongwoo cries out when he realises it’s the first shot of the game. “That’s actually not fair! He’s not even going to get drunk if he doesn’t answer the questions. Can’t we make him run laps or something?”

“Ever heard of orange juice overdose?” Minhyun goads, shaking the thoughts of intimacy out of his head. “I hear it can be lethal.”

“Of _course_ , because you’re sweet enough as it is—any more sugar in you and you’ll start getting cavities.”

“Guys,” Sungwoon says. “Flirting is fine, but not gag-worthy ones, please.”

“We’re not flirting,” Minhyun tries to argue, but Seongwoo, the ever-so-impatient, is already turning a card in his fingers.

“ _Are we sleeping with other people_?”

Minhyun means to laugh, mentally drawing up the list of people he’s slept with since he’s had Seongwoo—except he stops short mid-chuckle.

His mind is coming up with _blank_. 

“No,” he says slowly, the gravity of the word’s implications settling over him. “I… haven’t. Been sleeping with other people.”

“Oh,” Seongwoo’s eyes flicker down to the question card. His fingers curl around the shot glass next to him. “Me neither.” 

A beat of silence passes before they hear a rustle from the direction of the camera and Seongwoo’s head pops out, face looking astronomically unamused.

“What the hell? Then how are you different from normal, exclusive couples?”

Minhyun takes a shot of his sugary orange juice while Seongwoo complains, “Hey! That’s not even on the question card!”

“I’m the director,” Sungwoon drawls. “No answer, one shot.”

“Fine,” Seongwoo scowls, and Minhyun can’t curb the feeling of curiosity to the side, wondering what it is about the answer that makes even Seongwoo—an avid over-sharer too open for his own good—deem his opinion a bad one to voice out publicly. An ugly part of Minhyun tells him that it’s because he’s too nice to say the truth (that real couples have real, actual feelings involved; that Seongwoo doesn’t feel anything for Minhyun, at least not since college; that this whole arrangement is just to 'let off steam'), but he clears his throat, shakes the thoughts away like spiderwebs in his hair and reaches for yet another dreaded card.

He waits until Seongwoo’s finished knocking back the vodka to flip the card over and read the printed question. 

“ _Could we still be friends if I started dating someone seriously_?” Minhyun’s heart thunders in his ears as he puts the question card down.

Seongwoo, to his credit, looks a lot more composed than Minhyun feels at the moment. “I think we could,” he says breezily. His lips, previously curled up in thought, eases out into a soft smile. “Yeah, yeah we could.”

Minhyun’s swallows the lump in his throat. “How come?”

“How come?” he’s taken aback, eyes wide and almost hurt. “Minhyun—of course I’d… I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

Minhyun fiddles with the cup, a strange feeling in his chest, and tries his best to sound light when he says, “I’m that good, huh?”

When there’s no immediate rebuke, Minhyun chances a glance at Seongwoo’s face. His expression is perplexing to try and deduce.

“I’m not just talking about the sex,” Seongwoo says, sombre, and instead of waiting for Minhyun’s reply he picks up another question card. “ _Why would it be a bad idea for us to be in a committed relationship?_ ”

Minhyun freezes, and decides he needs to stop before he blurts out something _destructive_ —he reaches for another cup of orange juice, but feels his arm being pulled back.

“Wait—no, Minhyun,” Seongwoo’s voice is pleading. “Answer this one… please?” 

Minhyun has no idea what compels him to tell the truth—maybe it’s Seongwoo’s sudden vulnerability, maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t even like orange juice that much. Or maybe, somewhere deep inside, it’s because he wants Seongwoo to know the answer, too. “I don’t,” he admits. “I don’t think it’d be a bad idea.”

Seongwoo doesn’t reply; just pulls away, reaches out again to take another card. Minhyun should probably do something about his stolen turns, but finds himself transfixed as Seongwoo’s eyebrows furrow over his pretty eyes, looking at the card like it’s a riddle to be solved.

“Do you love me?”

He decides that Sungwoon is one cruel son of a bitch for writing such a cruel question.

He also notices how expectantly Seongwoo’s looking at him, and Minhyun decides that it’ll be easier to get over the shame if he does it quickly and cleanly, like ripping off a bandaid.

“Yes.” Minhyun says, with all the sobriety he can muster—because he’s letting his train of thoughts chug along now, and it’s headed towards the same conclusion: “Yes. I do love you.” 

As if bracing for impact, Minhyun leans back and closes his eyes—he thinks of the way he’d so carelessly let himself fall for someone who should’ve been out of bounds, dreads the moment his recklessness will send him off spiraling from the tracks to collide straight into a wall of rejection—  

“Do you want me to get dinner with you?” 

Minhyun’s breath catches in his throat.

“Seongwoo,” he says slowly, processing each word in disbelief. “You… your syntax is all over the place. The right question to ask should be: do you want to get dinner with me?”

Seongwoo’s lips quirk up. “Did you just ask me out?”

Minhyun opens his eyes to look up and finds that Seongwoo is not smiling; his fingers are twisting the card in his hand and—

—oh. This is what nervousness looks like on someone normally so confident.

“You want us to get dinner?”

“Yeah, Minhyun,” he says softly, his eyes even softer. “Yeah, I do. Would you… would that be okay? I know feelings and actions are two different things, so... ”

Now Minhyun is confused, because Seongwoo shouldn’t be the one looking like he wants to leap out of his seat, like he’s afraid that somehow, Minhyun would be stupid enough to say _no_ to his proposition. 

“Seongwoo. I just _said_ I loved you,” Minhyun says slowly. “I think it’s pretty obvious that _I_ want this. More than a dinner. More than just us sleeping together and not having anything attached afterwards.”

When Seongwoo laughs there is still apprehension around the edges, though the tautness of his smile has now relaxed to an easy one. “Maybe you don’t realise it, but sometimes you’re hard to read, Minhyunnie.”

“I could say the same thing,” says Minhyun, wanting to reach out for Seongwoo’s hand but not daring to. Not yet. “What about you? We’ve been like this for so long… do you think it’s a bad idea? To suddenly start becoming committed?”

Seongwoo bites his lip. “You don't think our relationship is any different from a committed one, do you?”

“Stop answering my questions with a question,” Minhyun complains, heart beating a mile a minute in his chest. “I used to think we were different, but now… now I know that it isn’t. Maybe in my head I'e always seen you as— as, you know—”

“I think the word you're looking for is 'boyfriend',” grins Seongwoo mischievously.

Minhyun rolls his eyes.“Thanks, Mr. No-Qualms. But yeah. I guess I've been thinking of you as my boyfriend all along. After you, it just didn't make sense anymore, for me to find other people, even though I knew I could. So I don’t think it’d be such a big jump to be committed,” Minhyun’s eyes flicker up, residual nervousness still in his words. “At least not in my perspective.”

Seongwoo is silent, before he sighs, a burden obviously lifted from his shoulders with the way he's smiling easily now. “I couldn't have said it better, because... because I think the same way.” He leans over the table—it’s not big at all, and it’s easy for Minhyun to mirror the movement and find that up close, Seongwoo really does look ethereal. His eyes are searching, and Minhyun tries to give him the answer. “Crossed my mind a couple of times, you know, but you just… you were always so busy, and you had everything figured out. I didn’t think I’d be part of your bigger plan.” 

“You’re right—you weren’t.” Minhyun leans in closer, encouraging him to continue. “But I’m not a believer in rigid plans.”   

“Lucky me,” murmurs Seongwoo. “And I don’t just want dinner with you, if that’s okay.”

“Deal.” It’s Minhyun who finally, _finally_ closes the gap between them for a kiss. He doesn’t know who, but _someone_ lets out a quiet moan, a mixture of both surprise and pleasure, and the sound travels right through Minhyun’s every nerve ending despite having been in this position countless times before. Somehow, knowing that he and Seongwoo are now something _more_ makes everything feel novel and, strangely enough, exciting. He grins when Seongwoo surges forward in his enthusiasm, bumping their noses together and impatiently pressing their lips together in quick successions. Minhyun needs them to be closer, needs Seongwoo's hand on him, so he pulls away slightly to take away the card still in Seongwoo’s hand.

He stops when he catches a glimpse of the question.

“What the—“ he blinks, trying to figure out if he’s reading the words right. “You—wait a second, Seongwoo, this says ‘ _do you cuddle after sex’_ —you weren’t even reading the actual questions!”

There’s an animated laugh next to his ear and Seongwoo is there, twining an arm around his neck, obviously not even trying to deny cheating Minhyun out of the answer he wanted. Flustered, Minhyun turns to the camera; a presence he’s forgotten about in the last ten or so minutes of their conversation. “Sungwoon!” 

“What? This was supposed to be an exercise of no interference.” Sungwoon is looking at his camera maniacally, sporting the widest grin Minhyun’s ever seen on. “I have to say, the results are pretty satisfying. I knew it was a good idea to invite you guys.”

“How many of them were the ones you made, Seongwoo? Be _honest_ ,” Minhyun demands, trying his hardest not to pout in indignation (he does not succeed).

“Just the last two, I swear!” Seongwoo's still laughing, clutching his knee for support. “Don’t worry, Minhyunnie, you didn’t make me work too hard. Getting the answers out of you was easier than I thought.” 

“So you think I’m easy, huh?” Minhyun gets a fistful of Seongwoo’s shirt and reels him in—but not before shaking him slightly in (endeared) frustration. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood right now, otherwise I’d be punishing you right here.”

“Oooohh, Hwang Minhyun, didn’t peg you for the exhibitionist ty—”

“You really _do_ talk too much, don’t you?” Minhyun groans and pulls him in by his shirt to kiss him again, delighting in the grin that Seongwoo presses onto his lips like a promise of better things to come in the future. Like reassurance; that Seongwoo can call Minhyun _his_ , that Seongwoo’s heart is in Minhyun’s hands, and _his_ alone.

 

 

 

(Status: In Love)

 

 

* * *

 

“Minhyun, are you dressed? Our booking is at 7. We should leave now if we don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

“Huh? Do we have to leave right away?”

“Yes. What. Oh my god, Minhyun please don’t make this any harder for me—” 

“But Seongwoo-yah, I’m too lazy to go out now…”

“ _Minhyun!_ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> say hi to me on <https://curiouscat.me/sealfox> or scream with me about onghwang!! (i'll try and reply quicker this time round i promise...)


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